


Becoming Carmilla

by linguistatheart



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linguistatheart/pseuds/linguistatheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After decades trapped in a coffin of blood, Mircalla thought she was ready to rejoin her mother's game of sacrifice at Silas University (not that she had much of a choice). But when she learns how the game has changed, she must decide for herself how to move forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Carmilla

Mircalla needed to finish her literature paper, but her mind refused to focus. She sat gazing up at twinkling stars through slightly warped glass, eyes tracing dotted lines into pictures and patterns. Some were figures she had been taught: there was a warrior, a queen, a serpent, a ladle, a guiding star. Others she created for herself. The head of a stag, two sisters running, a dead girl. She tried to erase the lines her mind created, escape the images that came flooding into her mind, just has they had for decades. She could not think of her, could not think of -

A sharp intake of breath from her sleeping roommate ripped her thoughts back. Mircalla glanced at the dark figure curled in a tight ball. It looked like Lizzy’s nightmare had finally started. Mircalla let out a long breath, then turned to the half-finished paper on her desk. This was going to be a long night. She picked up her pen. It was time to make the most of a long night and finish her damn essay. 

An analysis of the romance in Romeo and Juliet was the dullest topic her professor could have assigned. Two children who were clearly not in a sober state of mind fall in lust and kill themselves within the week? Mircalla didn’t call that a romance, she called it a bad trip and poor judgement. She would much rather be mapping more constellations, but she had finished her astronomy homework as soon as the stars came out. She toyed with the notion of skipping the paper entirely, but if she didn’t turn it in the professor would make a fuss and her mother would get involved. That was not something Mircalla wanted.

She halfheartedly scrawled a couple of paragraphs before the moonlight sky stole her gaze once more. Maybe she would have better luck if she closed the blinds. Mostly she wished Lizzy would be quieter. The younger girl’s nightmare had gotten progressively worse, as it always did, causing more vocal outbursts and mutterings. It was irritating and distracting to listen to, but weakening the target’s mental state was a necessary step in preparation for the sacrifice. How many times had her mother told her that? Mircalla continued to force her way through the pointless Shakespearean analysis as Lizzy’s moans grew louder, turning quickly into cries. It wouldn’t be long until she woke. 

Finally, Lizzy bolted upright after a final shriek. Mircalla watched through slitted eyes as her roommate put a trembling hand to her sweaty face. The first night was almost always the worst, or at least that’s how Mircalla remembered it. The sensation of drowning in blood...Mircalla didn’t have to imagine that horror. She couldn’t help but empathize with the girl. She blinked twice, then whirled around in her chair. 

“Oh my goodness! Lizzy, are you all right?”

Lizzy didn’t look up or respond. 

Mircalla took two long strides and crouched beside the bed. “Hey, Lizzy.” Tentatively she placed a hand on the trembling girl’s shoulder. 

Lizzy gasped and flinched away.

“Sorry.” Mircalla retracted her arm. “Nightmare?” she asked. 

Lizzy nodded. 

“Want to talk about it?” Mircalla tilted her head. “Sometimes talking about what we fear helps to alleviate any terror it brings.”

Lizzy glanced at Mircalla. “You talk so strangely sometimes.” Shakily, she inhaled. “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” She lowered her head into her hands, recalling the dream. “It started...I thought I had woken up. I was in my bed and the room was dark. You weren’t here though, I was alone. It was eerily quiet. So quiet it almost felt like the silence was listening to me. And then it got warm. I felt like I was being pushed under in a bath filled with warm water raining from above. But then it wasn’t water, it was blood.” She stifled a sob. “There was a blackness that wanted to swallow me whole. Blackness that was somehow also blinding light. I would have gone into it but...” she stopped again, and the shaking subsided. “There was a girl there. She told me to get away, go in the opposite direction and escape.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and glanced at Mircalla sheepishly. “Some dream, huh?” She frowned again. “Mircalla?”

Mircalla had drawn back as soon as Lizzy mentioned the girl. There never had been a girl before. What had changed in the past century? The last kidnapping Mircalla could remember -

No. It couldn’t be her.

Lizzy still needed a response. Mircalla shook herself back into the present. She still had her job to do. “Some dream, yeah.” She shrugged and rubbed the younger girl’s back. “Still, it was only a dream. There’s no blood raining down, and the only other girl in here is me.” She forced a light laugh. “Unless you’ve got someone stashed away in the closet.” The joke elicits a giggle from Lizzy. “There you go, dear. Laughter and light will chase away the fear.”

Of course, Mircalla was lying. She knew the nightmares will only get worse until her roommate was weak enough to be changed into a vapid fool, willing to walk with joy into her own demise. But her role in this scheme was to prevent Lizzy from having a breakdown and going home, so she comforted the innocent redhead until she drifted into a calm sleep. 

Mircalla went back to her desk to finish her essay, but her mind refused to think on anything but Lizzy’s dream. Who was the girl she had mentioned? Mircalla had played the role of the Comforter since for nearly two centuries before...and none of the victims had ever mentioned a girl. Had they all neglected this detail when describing their dreams to her, or was this a new development? Mircalla needed to find out. 

Pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, she scribbled a note to her older sister asking if there had been any changes to the sacrifice. She was careful not to mention the mysterious girl, however. She didn’t want to raise Madelyn’s suspicions. Quietly, she slipped on her jacket and out of the room. Madelyn’s house was not far from her dorm, for which Mircalla was grateful. Silas was strict on enforcing its curfew, and Mircalla did not want to attract any attention to herself as a troublemaker. She stole between the shadows of the trees until her note was safely placed in her sister’s mailbox. 

Walking back, Mircalla paused for several moments, staring up at the cloudless sky filled with stars unencumbered by a windowpane. The chilly air was beginning to pierce her jacket and burn her lungs, but she didn’t care. The view was worth it, and she needed space outside of her room to think. Something deep in Mircalla knew she didn’t need an answer from Madelyn, that the girl in Lizzy’s dream was Ell. She knew she had derailed Ell’s sacrifice, but apparently had no idea the extent of what happened after her punishment began. How did Ell become such a guiding force, steering the girls away from the devouring light? Did she choose such an existence, or was she trapped? The most important question was one Mircalla was afraid even to think: did Ell realize Mircalla had returned to the game?

Mircalla’s roving eyes found Cassiopia, reigning coldly in the sky, and offered a silent prayer of help to the queen. She knew what she had to do - continue as normal as she gained more information - but Mircalla was desperately afraid of what she would do once her suspicions were confirmed. 

Mircalla lingered for several minutes more before resuming her walk to the four-walled coffin Silas called a dorm room. She needed to be there if Lizzy had another nightmare, and she had an essay to finish.


End file.
